I Just Read About That…

SOUNDTRACK: MIGUEL ZENÓN feat. SPEKTRAL QUARTET-Tiny Desk Concert #814 (January 4, 2019).

When I saw that the artist was a quartet, I assumed this was classical music.  But then I saw that the main guy played saxophone.  So was this jazz?

In the end it doesn’t matter.  It’s glorious, modern instrumental music with instruments that at times fit so perfectly, you don;t realize there’s a reed in the strings.  And at times an instrument that stands out like its own unique thing.

Saxophonist Miguel Zenón is a big thinker — that much is clear from his recorded output, with its deep and inspiring connection to the folk traditions of his native Puerto Rico. But you also get that sense from his turn behind the Tiny Desk, where we can watch the concentration on his face and those of his adventurous band, the Spektral Quartet. This is life-affirming music with curious twists and turns, expertly performed by amazingly talented musicians.

The three songs work on mainly the same principle: fast, intricate string melodies with sudden time changes.  And a saxophone that either accompanies them or solos around them.

“Rosario” opens with the strings and sax playing an almost warm up sound before the pizzicato strings support the main sax melody.  There’s some very modern frenetic striking string music (with no sax) which is followed by the same strings with a lead sax solo over it.  The end of the piece features a delicately plucked cello and a lovely violin melody.

“Milagrosa” opens with everyone playing the same melody.  It’s fascinating how much the sax does not contribute–until it does.  But I’ll let the blurb talk about the amazing ending of this song:

There are two ways to marvel at the stunning unison playing that comes about three-quarters of the way through “Milagrosa.” First, listen with your eyes closed. The notes cascade at a such a fast clip, it can leave you breathless. Now, watch with your eyes open: It’s a joy to see Zenón and his band read the notes from the page, at times sneaking in visual cues with smiles just below the surface. It must be such a pleasure to make music like this.

The way the song starts and stops and starts again with such speed is really spellbinding.

He says that these songs were inspired by cultural and musical traditions from Puerto Rico.  Specifically, the final song, “Villabeño” alludes to a subgenre of Puerto Rican music–from the mountains

It is the quietest and lest intense song of the bunch.  The strings, even though they are largely playing staccato, are kind of hushed as Miguel plays the most jazzy solos of the set.  There’s a brief moment near the end where the strings come back to the fore, but it’s more as a supporting agent than a competitor.  It’s quite cool.

[READ: January 11, 2019] “Wrong Object”

I loved the way this story revealed the heart of itself.

It is written from the point of view of a therapist.  She writes that she has a new patient and he is very dull: “He is a nondescript man.”

He said his problem was himself–that his wife was thoroughly nice.  While she preferred a self-critical patient to a blamer, there was just nothing to him.  Usually her notebooks were full after a session, but she wrote very little about him: “Talks about wife, what a good person she is.  Annoying.”

She actually had to google him to find out even a little bit of information about him.  She felt bored by him.

She was about to suggest he seek a new therapist when he finally revealed what he had been holding back.

“I’m a pedophile,” he said.

This story, which I thought was weirdly fascinating just became creepily fascinating.

She immediately said that if he committed a crime she would have to report him, but he said he never did.  He controls himself just fine.  It’s not a problem and never will be.  He has too much to lose.  However, it’s also why his marriage suffers.  He also has three children and he is constantly vigilant about them.

They spent the next months’ sessions hunting down a possible predator from his past, but no babysitter or errant person had done anything to him.

She asked him what the impetus was to see her and he explained that there was a high school girl–the daughter of the CFO at his office who was doing a project for school.  She was trailing him to see what his job was like.  She clearly started to fall for him–like an eighth grader’s crush on her teacher.  She asked him for an internship but he turned her down, much to the CFO’s dismay.  He had certainly fallen in love with her back but obviously could do nothing about it.

The therapist says that’s what we call the “wrong object.”

A generation ago conversion therapy would have been employed but no one believed in that anymore.

He revealed his first object of desire.  When he was thirteen he fell in love with a girl.  They shared a delirious kiss in the ocean when no one was looking.  But as he grew older, he maintained that first crush–it didn’t age with him.

As the story near the end, he brings up the subject of porn. She raises her hand, again she would have to report him. He said he watched one last night and he hated it. He hated how the girl looked so afraid.

The therapist suggests he tell his wife.  He said he could never do that to her.

Soon enough he started cancelling sessions and then stopped going altogether.

When her superior returned from a six month vacation she told him about her cases and he was especially interested in the pedophile.  He was increasingly disappointed in how she dealt with him.

The end is upsetting on many levels, although at least he still never acted on his desires.

I can’t imagine how Simpson managed to create a sympathetic pedophile character, but she did.  This was a powerful difficult read but it was a great story.